


Devil's Advocate

by toxicologyrep0rt



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Demon Deals, Demon Summoning, Demons, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Male-Female Friendship, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:08:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23538871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toxicologyrep0rt/pseuds/toxicologyrep0rt
Summary: An exchange between a demon and a girl who’s looking to make a deal.“As I lowered my hands I was able to take in his image. He was handsome. He had black hair that was the darkest I’d ever seen. He had loose curls that seemed to be carefully placed all around his head and concealing the tips of his ears, while barely meeting the edge of his collar.“
Relationships: Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!) & Everyone
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	Devil's Advocate

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm actually re-uploading this. Hope you guys enjoy. I know it's written kind of weird due to how I wanted to introduce the settings and the characters.  
> Thank you for reading!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: I combined chapters 1 and 2.  
> I made minor changes(MC’s name), grammatical errors, word choice, etc.  
> Silas is Satan. Lucifer is the demon.

There was a long silence between myself and the man.  
" No, " said the man abruptly. " Before I begin, I need to be sure that you’re confident in your decision."  
I nodded in reassurance. “You may want to cover your eyes. I'm going to turn on the ceiling light. It’s very bright "  
" But..." I began, “ I thought vampires didn't like the light?” My statement was met with silence, then a soft chuckle. The man, who turned away from me, looked as if his silhouette was stamped onto the window in front of him. As the dim light from the streetlight off in the distance flickered in the window. The room was dark and my eyes adjusted ever so slightly as the light slowly came and went. I could just barely make out the objects and furniture in the room more clearly now, a small loveseat, opposite from where I sat there were identical living chairs and a coffee table that seemed to be made of mahogany or some type of dark oak placed directly in between them. The man now with his back to the window, was staring directly at me.  
“You think I am a vampire, miss?”  
I began to feel embarrassed. I could feel the heat rushing to my cheeks and for a moment I was relieved that the darkness hid the shame that was beginning to emerge on my face.  
” It’s...what the locals told me, sir. I mean no harm.“  
He started to say something but he said nothing. He chuckled again and then he sighed with a sense of relief. The man moved towards me and reached for the wall behind me turning on the light switch. The room was filled with a harsh white light. I felt a shiver go down my spine as I lifted my hands to shield myself from the powerful light. I blinked and although my eyes were partially closed I could see I was considerably closer to the man. I gasped as I felt his fingers brush my shoulder as he removed his hand from the light switch.  
"Oh, Lord,” I whispered, from that moment on I was speechless. From the brief glimpse I took of the man I could see he was porcelain white and his skin had a smooth texture as if he were sculpted from marble, except for his two brown eyes that I avoided.  
" I am not a vampire my dear. I am a demon." he spoke softly. My hands were shaking as they shielded a majority of the light from my eyes. I attempted to take another look at the man once I felt like my eyes had adjusted well enough. As I lowered my hands I was able to take in his image. He was handsome. He had black hair that was the darkest I’d ever seen. He had loose curls that seemed to be carefully placed all around his head and concealing the tips of his ears, while barely meeting the edge of his collar.  
"And you trust the words of the locals over mine? " the man asked, taking a small step back as if he was letting me get a full view of him. My mouth opened before I had the chance to think of what to say. I quickly closed it and began nodding in disagreement.  
The man turned away from me and quickly sat down opposite of me on the living chair that was closer than I anticipated. Leaning forward from his seat, he spoke to me in a gentle voice, "May I ask your name?" I must admit I was a bit nervous as he spoke. “ My name is —, sir.”  
He paused for a moment and reached out over the length of the coffee table between us. I was taken back a bit by his gesture. I could feel sweat running down the side of my face. The man gently touched my shoulder and said, " You have my word, I won't hurt you. I want this opportunity to show you that even a tragic being like myself still has their humanity. I want you to relax." He withdrew his hand to reach into his pocket to reveal a handkerchief. He handed it to me and politely collected both of his hands in his lap and quietly watched me. It took a moment for me to regain my composure, I patted my temple with the handkerchief he had handed me.  
” I’m sorry, it's just that your presence is overwhelming. " I began.  
" I’m sure if it would ease your mind if you knew, but I wasn’t born into this world as a demon. " he quietly stated. "I was no older than you when I sold my soul, I suddenly can’t remember the year though, but I assure you I am not here to cause you any more pain. I’ve come to release you from your burden of life. ”  
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but you don’t have to comfort me. I don’t want to prolong the process of ending my life. “  
“You’ve called upon a great demon to end your life. I am not in a rush to drag you to Hell. You are not the first soul that I’ve met who’s been eager to trade their pitiful life for an eternity of anguish.”  
“ I wouldn’t want to bore you with my life’s story, mister.”  
He smiled widely. Carefully, he positioned his hand on his chin, attempting to give the impression of being in deep thought,” Well, if I tell you the story of how I came to be, would you be willing to do the same?”  
I received his statement with a smile. By now I had regained my composure and my anxiousness was replaced with curiosity. The handkerchief I was loaned earlier was hastily shoved in my pocket as I adjusted myself on the loveseat. “I can do that. “ He removed his hand and gazed at me briefly with a very particular look before speaking in a hushed voice. “Miss, as you can imagine, immortality isn’t something I’ve learned to love. I am constantly searching for a cure, but the sky nor the earth has given me an inkling of what I need so desperately need. I keep telling myself that at some point I must come to terms with the way things are. I can no longer blame my way of life on the war that happened many years ago. I must take responsibility for everything that I’ve done, but even so, claiming full responsibility for such despicable actions will never bring me to heaven’s gate. I must accept that there is no ‘home’ for me or my ‘brothers’ and that my actions have brought us to this point. I must be strong, not just for them but for myself as well. “  
“ May I ask what you did?”  
He shook his head.“ I will tell you shortly Miss, but I am getting ahead of myself. If I tell you this story I must tell you the person I was before I became what stands before you. My story begins with a tragedy " the man started. "My brother died and it was unexpected. " He paused, and I cleared my throat as I watched him grimace with discomfort.  
" Is it painful to remember? " I asked timidly.  
" Does it seem so? " asked the man. " Yes. "  
“I must admit that I am feeling hesitant about telling you this story.“  
I looked at him, not wanting to pry any further. I sat in silence as the man emerged slowly from his seat. His hands were clasped behind his back and he stood very still once he had reached the window. “ He died young, so very young, but I'll come back to that. I will do my best to spare you the details of my childhood, but I do have a tendency to ramble. “  
“I will say we lived comfortably but we also lived in isolation. My brother had not yet been born when my parents decided to invest and settle near my uncle’s estate on the Mississippi River. The majority of it was sheer wilderness. I do recall being enchanted by the cypresses and how they absorbed the sounds of the swamp nearby, muting the songs of the birds and whatever other creatures that were nearby. I loved it, my mother loved it. All except my father. I don’t recall ever hearing him complain, but I knew how he felt. My father was not a businessman, he was a man who believed strongly in his faith. Salvation was what appealed to him, repentance and the souls of the apostles that lived in his leatherbound bible. Nothing meant more to him than spreading the teachings of the Divine Word. He would always say to me: “People can find faith in anything, but it’s my job as a follower to share my testimony and the gospel, even if they don’t care to listen.” He truly thought of the church as a place of healing and transformation, and it was for him.”  
“Was it not for you?”  
“At times it was, but my father had convinced me at a young age that my salvation was determined by my sacrifices. It frightened me more than anything, but he didn’t seem to notice the damage he’d done.” He laughed.  
“My father was a bit of a tyrant. He demanded nothing short of perfection from me, my brother on the other hand was a more delicate situation. He was especially considerate with his feelings, but I suppose that was due to him developing a terrible temper. My father was a very strict man with an overwhelming presence, but with Silas that intensity seemed nonexistent. “  
“Your brother's name was Silas?”  
“ Yes, my father was adamant on naming him after an archangel, Michael specifically; but my mother wasn’t too fond of the name. They bickered until the day he was born. They settled on naming him Silas, but my father always called him by his middle name which ended up being Raphael.”  
He smiled,” He was so different from everyone. There was nothing extraordinary about me whatsoever, but Silas was such a wild spirit. As you can imagine, Silas being the youngest was doted on mostly by my mother, myself and even my father on rare occasions. Being pampered constantly caused him to have terrible fits of rage when he didn’t get what he wanted. An expression of distaste appeared on his face. " He was such a rotten child.”  
“As we got older, it became very clear that my father's relationship with Silas was more complex than I could ever imagine. Their dynamic was very off putting , it was apparent that Silas was the only person who was worth his time. I can remember being so frustrated that I wanted to question his thought process but I knew I would only be met with a passive comment, about my refusal to bend to God’s will, but this was nothing new. In his eyes Silas was special, he was made from my father’s frustrations of inadequacy. I, on the other hand, was born from his pride. Which is why he couldn’t use me. Him saying that didn’t particularly upset me, but it made me realize a lot of things, but most importantly what kind of man he was. He prayed for a son who was everything he was not and that’s what he received. I was commended for everything I did, while he visibly struggled with his self image and being his own person. I wanted to pity him but I found myself finding it difficult to show him any sympathy at all. He wanted Silas to be like him; weak-minded and afraid to take any risks that might result in failure. I didn’t want Silas to be anything like our father. I wanted him to be more than what he was being limited to. As fate would have it, my influence and my time were suddenly limited due to my uncle wanting me to undertake an apprenticeship so my father could retire early. Although I was well aware the main factor in this decision was that Father had made an impulsive decision and had taken out a loan to build him a private sanctuary on the property. Why he did such an impulsive thing is beyond my knowledge, but that was only the beginning.” He became quiet. Briefly, he turned away from the window to glance at me as if he was making sure he still had my attention.  
“I’m rambling aren’t I? I’m sorry Miss. I don’t know if you can tell but I don’t get to tell this story often.” I gave him a smile as reassurance that he still held my attention.  
“ When I had time to myself, I would invite Silas to go on walks around the property and encouraged him to tell any troubles he had. It was my way of making up for lost time I suppose. On a rare occasion he would open up and talk about how he wished he could do some of the things that I did, he expressed how he was envious that I was free to do as I pleased. I can remember him telling me how he wasn’t satisfied with his “studies” and how he wanted to work with our uncle and myself but those were on nights when father had angered him and he was feeling rebellious. Mostly he would offer to listen to me and of course, I would complain about our father and the apprenticeship. Silas was always careful with his words and would only make a few comments, always which were very sympathetic. He'd always ask to walk back to the sanctuary together and ask me to pray with him.” Hepaused once again. .  
"Did you pray with him? " I questioned. He gave me a puzzled look as if he fell into deep thought trying to find the right words.  
“ Yes, but I can’t help but feel as if I could’ve done more.”  
“More?”  
“ My father had died suddenly. By the time we realized he was ill, his mind was far too gone and any attempt to save him was futile. It all happened so fast. We should’ve guessed something was wrong when he began making questionable remarks regarding the future of our estate. To be more specific, he believed my brother was a saint, no one believed him of course but he was adamant. After he made that comment mother and I tried to find a doctor who could help us while Silas tried to pray the illness away, but it only seemed to get worse with every passing day. It was agonizing seeing my father in that condition. I was twenty-two at the time and had never been exposed to anything like that. It was a strange and depressing experience especially for Silas, who was sixteen then. He began praying at dawn and continued late into the night. If I woke up early enough, I could find him sleeping in the sanctuary. That was when the bulk of my frustrations began. I started watching him from my bedroom window and a sense of hopelessness consumed me. I attempted to offer some kind of comfort to my brother, but he only wanted me to pray with him.  
The man then turned away from the window, approaching the living chair he was seated in earlier, seeming to sink into the chair exhaling deeply.  
“After my father’s death, I began my long descent into despair. I have never known anything quite like it. I was completely dejected and my feelings were complicated due to the circumstances. He was my father, and even though he did not favor me I still found myself mourning for him. He was a prominent figure in my life, in spite of the troubles between us. I experienced a great deal of guilt. I began to question how my actions affected him and ultimately determined Silas’s fate as well. I robbed my brother of a childhood and for years I had overlooked his pain, writing it off as something my father had done and something he needed to fix. But it was my fault all along. Shame consumed me and I felt as if I couldn’t face Silas. I wanted nothing more than to right what I had wronged but it was far too late.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“I tried to sympathize with him and fed into his belief even though I didn’t believe in them. He began to claim outlandish things like hearing voices of the saints and our dead father. For months, I let him continue with his delusions. I was in denial that my brother has lost his grip on reality. He began to change in a drastic way that worried me.”


End file.
